Every morning I make the trek from the north shore to the CBD in downtown Sydney. This commute includes a short half kilometer walk to the bus stop, a ride over the Sydney Harbour Bridge to Wynyard Station, a short train ride to Central Station and another half kilometer walk to the ABC building. It is a very interesting commute, one that warrants an entire blog entry to enjoy.

Generally the walk to the bus stop is pretty standard. I join a route march with ten or so other people that slowly pick up more commuters as we make our way to the Watson St. bus stop. It’s like one of those broadway films gone Hollywood where one guy is walking down the street, and as he walks, more and more people jump out from shops and alleys to join him. I sometimes wonder what would happen if I just started dancing and singing some popular song. Would people join me or would I be labeled crazy?

Buses show up regularly, one every three minutes, and they all take the same short route across the Sydney Harbour Bridge to the Wynyard train station on the other side. Sometimes you get lucky and the buses arrive close enough together that everyone has boarded the first bus, leaving a few empty seats on the second. Usually, I am forced to test my luck by standing in the center row as the crazed Aussie bus drivers whip their way around turns. I think the drivers play a game where they try to knock over as many standing commuters as possible with wide turns and jerky accelerating and braking. I’ve seen a few single guys use the game to their advantage, giving up their seats to pretty girls only to fall on them around the turns.

Sick and bruised, everyone de-boards in a mad rush and walks briskly underground to the Wynyard station. Getting to the train is always a challenge with people criss crossing every which way. Veteran travelers make their way past the long ticket lines to the ticket validation machines where people stack up at the machines, creating a bottleneck. Occasionally, someone will disrupt the momentum by inserting an invalid or upside down ticket into the machine, at which point everyone piles up, trampling those in front of them, until the clog has cleared. Trains arrive every few minutes and I usually pick the last car to seek refuge from the crowds for at least a few minutes.

The train ride is pretty uneventful, taking a route under the city for two stops. I usually play iPhone games or read my book, stepping off at Central station, which is always complete madness. After passing through another set of clogged ticket checking machines, I walk under George St. in a pedestrian only tunnel that a few bikers will rebelliously ride through.

The George St. pedestrian tunnel filled with commuters and tourists.

Lining the sides of the tunnel are performers whose only spare change filling their hats and guitar cases is their own. Thousands of people walk by, pretending to be too busy to stop and listen. I avoid eye contact as much as possible, but occasionally I will acknowledge a unique act, albeit silently and out of the corner of my eye. Noteworthy acts include:

1. A dead beat, god-awful Aussie with long hair that sings horrible renditions of Hotel California and The House of the Rising Sun.
2. An obese, blind woman who sings medieval opera, using her walking stick as a microphone stand.
3. A Chinese man who has authentic Chinese music playing behind his Geisha puppet show.
4. A metalhead who plays brilliant but loud guitar and looks like he’s only there to hear himself play in the enclosed tunnel (brilliant acoustics!)

My favorite of course is the accordion player who torments everybody by playing the classic horse racing song over and over again, faster and faster. It’s the perfect theme for the tunnel where everyone is in a mad rush to get out. I see him smiling regularly as he watches the crowds pass by. It’s his acoustic “F you” to corporate Australia and I love it.

Lining the sides of the train station and portions of the tunnel are small, shady shops that cell books, bags, sweets, donuts and sushi. Yes, sushi, like a burrito style roll in a paper bag that includes a mini soy sauce for the road. Last week I stopped off for a $10 haircut. It wasn’t too bad to be honest.

The Wynyard bus line during rush hour.

I arrive at work barely seeing any daylight at all since the ABC is just on the other side of the tunnel. I walk in, pass through security, pack into an elevator then sit down for ten hours, only to do it all again in reverse. C’est la vie!